Into the Shadows (29 page)

UNEMPLOYED

"Why did your minion leave a dead body in my
park?" Fletcher said as a greeting from thirty feet away when Ragna
and I came out of the building. What a charmer. The woman named
Katala stood a few strides away from him out in the street. She had
a big raven on her shoulder. I looked up when I heard a squawk, and
saw dozens more of them perched on nearby power lines. Okay, that
was disturbing.

"Did you expect Beck to contaminate a crime
scene?" Ragna asked in response. "There was blood all around the
human victim, and a trail of it leading away to another
gore-spattered location. Did you expect him to clean it all up in
the dark?"

That shut him up for a second. In a calmer
tone, Fletcher said, "From what I can gather, it is being reported
as an animal attack for now. I want to know if that is true. It is
my domain, after all."

"Your domain . . ." Ragna said the words
slowly. "Yes, it surely is. Evidently, elder Fletcher, your
contacts do not compare to mine. Soon enough, some coroner will
find saliva on the victim. He'll find the same saliva on a
dismembered raccoon not far from the scene. That saliva belongs to
some worthless young vampire. I surmise that he lost control and
blood-lusted in your park. And the authorities now have his DNA.
Supernatural DNA found in
your
domain. My, that would
certainly rip the veil, wouldn't it?"

It was easy to see that Fletcher was getting
severely pissed. The thick hair on his arms was standing, and his
head lowered like an animal's would before it attacked. "What do
you want?" he growled.

I could almost feel the tension as I glanced
around. There weren't any people out walking, although an
occasional car drove by. Katala's hands were balled into fists, and
her birds became restless. Fletcher's arms were away from his body
with his hands spread open. Ragna seemed cool as a cucumber. I
inched my hand toward my shoulder holster, trying not to be
obvious.

"What do I want?" Ragna asked casually.
"Seeing as I have the means to alter those reports - whereas you
certainly don't - and save you from the torch or the chopping block
. . . Well, let me see . . ."

She had Fletcher over a barrel and was taking
the opportunity to fuck with him. I thought that was a very,
very
bad idea. Fletcher was on the verge of rage. His claws
had grown out, and he'd pulled his shades off to reveal those
glowing orange eyes. "Tell me . . ." His words barely sounded
human.

Ragna waited a moment before she said, "Let's
start with your eternal servitude and go from there."

That pushed him over the edge, and from there
a number of things happened at once. Fletcher bellowed like a beast
and began to charge at Ragna. Somehow, Michael was suddenly behind
Katala and snapped her neck like dead wood. I pulled my Glock and
put four rounds in Fletcher's chest. He hardly flinched and just
kept coming at us. I raised my aim for his head when Ragna yelled
"STOP" with her hand out, palm facing him. Surprisingly, Fletcher
came to a skidding halt right in front of us. I felt the urge to
shoot him again as he stood there.

"Ragna," Fletcher began, still furious, "you
will -"

"Leave," she hissed, her ice blue eyes still
glaring into his, forcing the command into his head. Fletcher
turned and walked away. I just stood there with my mouth open,
watching him go.

"Someone probably called the police by now,"
Michael said. "Gunshots aren't common around here."

Ragna ordered me to pick up Katala and bring
her inside while Michael ran to get something to tie her up with.
Even a broken neck wouldn't keep a hemo down for long.

I dropped the body in an aisle of the
theater-turned-church and said to Ragna, "I guess that means I'm
not working for Fletcher anymore . . ."

"I'll miss the money," she said, "but you'll
be better off in the end. Fletcher is a fanatic for a lost cause,
and it would probably have gotten you killed. You're welcome."

"I'm supposed to thank you?" I glanced to
make sure Michael wasn't returning yet, and then quietly said,
"Viggo wanted more information about Fletcher's plans. Now I'm
screwed, and you get him owing you big time. I guess you could
order Fletcher to hand over the list of people he wanted me to hit,
but then he'd just change his targets afterwards. So yeah, okay,
thanks for that," I ended sarcastically.

Michael hurried from the backstage area with
a roll of duct tape and handed it to me. I started binding up
Katala nice and tight while he and Ragna discussed the events. From
what I could gather while I wrapped tape around the body, Ragna
knew to contact Michael earlier that night because of something
Clara Page had said. Michael apparently had a minion who worked at
the medical examiner's office. I remembered Shawn telling me
something about that. Okay, Ragna wasn't bluffing.

Something caught my eye and I looked up.
Flickering shadows started to form out of nothing in mid-air right
behind Michael. Before Ragna could say or do anything, a hand -
Viggo's hand - reached out of the shadows and yanked Michael into
them. Just like that, he was gone. The shadows faded a second
later. If I didn't already know what was going on, I would have
pissed myself. I almost did anyway.

Ragna looked around frantically. Two seconds
later a larger collection of shadow gathered near us, creating a
large, wavering black hole. Viggo stepped out of it, staring
sternly down at her.

Barely able to meet his glare, she timidly
asked, "What did you do with Michael?" Wow, the crazy bitch sounded
like she cared as much about him as she did her dogs or her
shopping cart.

"I safely moved him to a location not too far
away. I wanted him gone so that I might speak with you candidly. I
assume your scion is still unaware of my existence?"

"Yes, Veleti," Ragna nodded her head
nervously, "I've told him nothing."

"Make sure it stays that way. I do not care
what story you tell Michael about how or why he was pulled through
a void, except for the truth. You will keep your word to me,
Ragna."

"Yes, of course." she meekly answered.
Watching Ragna cower in front of my angry commander . . . I was
enjoying the hell out of it.

"I know what happened here tonight," Viggo
stated with a deep voice of tumbling gravel. "I watched as you
cleverly, greedily, turned the situation into your own gain. I
cannot blame you for that, but in the process you have thwarted one
of my plans and inconvenienced me, Ragna. You have also placed my
minion in danger from the Outsider faction, if Mr. Fletcher can
rally them all. As of now, Mr. Beck must be removed from your care.
If asked, say that he was an irritation and you fed him to your
dogs."

Holy shit, now I had the Adepts
and
the Outsiders after my ass? Hopefully the other hemos would buy
Ragna's story that she offed me. Otherwise, I'd have to move and
not get a damn penny for my house. I'd also have to stop going to
all my regular places. Like Shawn once said, I'd have to stay off
the radar, only this time forever.

Viggo leaned down closer to Ragna and said
menacingly, "You have disappointed me, Ragna. For your own sake, do
not . . .
ever
. . . impede me again." I saw her shrink back
into her rags. If I hadn't just got fucked over, I'd have been
grinning like a madman.

Standing straight and turning to me, Viggo
said, "To be cautious, you will need to relocate. Hopefully, it
will only be temporary. Gather supplies from your home. I will be
waiting at the location where the woman named Natalie served you
breakfast. Go."

It was obvious he didn't trust Ragna anymore,
not even with which Deviant safe house I'd be at. Grateful that I
wouldn't have to put up with the dog-woman anymore, I smiled as I
walked out.

HIRED

I thought about my situation while I packed
guns, ammo, booze, clothes, toiletries, non-perishable food, and a
couple of old photos. There was a good side to the whole mess.
Mainly, I presumed I'd be able to serve Viggo directly from then
on. I also no longer had to worry about taking orders from demented
hemos and forced into scenarios that went against my grain. Still,
I wasn't able to do anything I pleased. But, with Viggo personally
looking out for me, I wasn't too worried about the other
factions.

With my paranoia on a higher notch than
normal, I took an indirect route to the building that sat in an old
industrial part of town. I was sure I wasn't followed, and relaxed
as I neared the place. Some hunched form I didn't recognize held
open the tall fence gate to the small parking lot in the back, and
already had the one of the two big delivery doors open for me to
pull into.

Viggo stepped into the garage bay and leaned
on the van parked next to me while I was unloading my Jeep.
"Welcome back, Leo," he said without a hint of humor or
sarcasm.

"Uh, yes sir, thank you." I adjusted a strap
on my shoulder and asked, "So, uh, who's that man out in the
parking lot?"

Viggo waved his hand nonchalantly. "Ah, Milo
- he is merely a lowly servant who sees to the most basic of
chores. His capacity is diminished, so he's poor company
otherwise." As Viggo spoke, Milo shuffled inside and pulled the
overhead door closed. "Set down your bags so that we can sit and
talk, Leo. Milo will bring your things up to a room he's prepared
for you."

As I set the duffel bags down, I asked, "It's
not the same room that I was in last time, is it, sir?"

It wasn't quite a smile from Viggo, although
the corner of his mouth twitched. "No. Come."

I followed him into the building proper. He
paused when he got to the wide entryway to the break room and said,
"If you like, find a snack and then meet me upstairs in the
lounge."

Hell, I didn't know the place had a lounge. I
gathered a few things and went up the creaky stairs. At the end of
the hall to my left was my old prison room. Ah, memories - they
suck. Directly to my right was a big room that said 'conference' on
the open door. It was set up like a living room, full of furniture,
tables, and a TV on the wall. There were two windows that both
faced the front of the building, giving a view of the wide street
below and a vacant lot across the way.

I set down a box of crackers, a can of Pepsi,
a glass full of ice, and my flask. I took a seat opposite of Viggo
and made a drink. "What do you think?" he asked. I assumed he meant
the accommodations.

"This is very nice, sir," I answered. "I
haven't looked in all of the rooms, but what I've seen is more than
enough. Thank you."

With a shrug, Viggo commented, "There are a
few rooms for your use. One is a manager's office downstairs, next
to the lobby. Another is an entertainment room, next to your former
apartment." Yeah, apartment - that was a nice way to put it. "The
last is the former owner's office just down the hall, which has
been simply decorated as a bedroom. It has its own restroom. There
are two other offices and a small assembly room that haven't been
converted. You see, this building used to be owned by a company
that distributed small parts to the now-abandoned auto plant four
blocks down the road."

"Alright," I said after a sip, "well, it's
still great. And no one knows about it, right?"

"Only a few members of my faction, but only I
use it. Mr. Merritt was only here at my request while you were
being held. To reinforce your sense of security, I'll tell you
this: all of the walls are concrete, all the glass is bullet-proof,
and there are bars on every window. The garage doors are steel with
slide locks. The only other exterior door is in the lobby, and it
has coded entry and a series of locks. The back gate is padlocked,
and the building has a wireless alarm system. You are safe here,
Leo."

"It sure sounds that way, sir. So . . . What
happens now?"

Viggo sat back, crossed his legs and said,
"That depends on you, Leo. As it currently stands, the Adepts may
not be actively searching you out anymore, but they will not pass
on an opportunity to remove you if you are spotted."

"I figured as much, sir."

"As far as I can tell with the Outsiders,"
Viggo went on, "Fletcher is angry because of how this evening's
events played out, and may sway others within his loose faction to
look for retribution. Ragna will alter documents to secure a
powerful debt from him, so he cannot attack her directly. However,
he and others of his faction may strike in other areas that would
affect the dog-woman, you included. The variable concerning you
lies with how convincing the story of your demise is told."

"It doesn't sound like I have too many
choices so far, sir."

Viggo's stare alone told me that I was being
an ungrateful shit and that he was giving me all the facts in case
I didn't know them. "Sorry, sir," I mumbled behind my drink.

"As of now," he continued, ignoring my
apology, "you will have to immediately cut all ties without
explanation. That includes neighbors, friends at the tavern and
security agency you were formerly employed with, acquaintances from
your gun club and dojo, military comrades, the employees of the
liquor store you frequent - I mean
everyone
. For your own
safety, you should not go near any of those people or places, not
even your own home. Not until we see how things turn out."

"I hate the thought of worrying my friends
like that, sir."

"I know you do, Leo. That is part of why I
see you as so much more than the obligation of an oath.
Nonetheless, the chance cannot be taken. What if a member of one of
the other factions questions your neighbors - Mr. Sanchez and his
family across the street, for example - and is told that they have
seen you just the day before? You are supposedly dead. That nice
family might then be used as bait to draw you out of hiding. Do you
see my reasoning now?"